ad infinitum
by stress
Summary: To Infinity [minor language, some violence] Clover thought her love for Mickey would last forever but, in such times, there is no such thing as forever. Now she understands that, understands what love really is. But does Mush?
1. monumentum

Author's Note: _This first chapter was first done in 2004, but, like _Diabo_, I decided to rewrite it to try and work on this story some more. I always enjoyed writing about Clover – considering I have three nice chapters towards the close of this story already written; I guess I just stopped working on this when I had writer's block on how to connect my idea of the beginning with the climax I had already developed. And, since I'm taking a couple days break from my other main stories, I thought I would try this again. And, in case the premise of the prologue seems familiar but you can't place it, this once went by "Written in Ink." With a new spin on the tale, I changed the title. Enjoy._

Disclaimer: _This story is from the property of my mind. The twins, Clover & Ash O'Connell, as well as most minor characters are mine, except for a few friends who were generous enough to let me use their characters. Any character that you recognize from the 1992 musical, Newsies, obviously is the creative property of Disney._

---

_ad_ _infinitum  
_- To Infinity -

07.01.06

_When Clover lost her parents and her love all within one short year, she and her brother remained in Manhattan.  
What happens, though, when her newfound life as a newsie isn't as carefree as she thinks?  
Or her position in the group leads her straight into the arms of her old enemy?_

---

MONUMENTUM  
_MEMORIES_

_"Here, Clo. Wipe the blood off with this." The boy pushed his longish black hair out of his face as he bent down and reached for a nearby rag. Grimacing – he wasn't a fan of blood and, when he had his own ink done, he had nearly passed out from the sight – he handed it to her. _

_Fifteen year old Madeleine O'Connell accepted the dirty rag and held it to the freshly made wound on her upper left arm. "My arm ain't gonna fall off now, is it, Mick?"_

_Mickey Duggan, somewhat taller than an average sixteen year old boy, tried to hide his discomfort by smiling warmly down at her; he rolled up his own sleeve to reveal a new, though somewhat healed, tattoo of a heart with an "M", for Madeleine, in the middle; while he liked to refer to her using her childhood nickname, he knew that the name wouldn't be respectable for a wife. Years from then, he would be glad that he tattooed Madeleine on his arm rather than Clover. "My arm's doing just fine and I let Inks do it two weeks ago."_

_"Yeah, and if I remember right, you cried more than I did this morning." She smiled as she removed the rag to see her tattoo, a three-leafed clover – a testament to her lifelong nickname – with an "M", for Mickey, dashed across it. "But, honestly Mickey, do you like it?"_

_Mickey bent down slightly so that he was her height and looked her right in her hazel eyes. "Of course, Clover, of course. With these tattoos, our love will be there forever. Forever and always, you know."_

_The beautiful moment was ruined when Clover, staring back into Mickey's dark brown eyes, let out a snort. "_Forever and always_?" she teased._

_Mickey straightened up and shrugged his shoulders, a handsome grin crossing his face. "I thought the moment called for something a little extra," he said._

_Placing the rag back on her arm, Clover stood up, making sure not to step on the bottom of her brown skirt. "Whatever you say, Mickey."_

_Mickey steadied Clover as she stood, and, making sure no one was watching, quickly pecked her on her cheek._

_"Mickey Duggan_! _You know damn well it's not proper to do that in public," she cried as she turned her head, her clipped dirty blonde hair swaying as she did, before resting in place down her back. _

_"Maddie O'Connell! You know damn well it's not proper for a lady to swear," Mickey countered as he threw Clover's words right back at her._

_Clover turned back to glare at him, but when she saw his smile, her own face betrayed her. "Touché."_

_Mickey winked and leaned towards her again; but, this time, Clover was quicker and jumped to the side. "Come, Mickey, it's time to go home. Mama and Papa said not to be late for dinner again."_

_Mickey nodded but reached for the ruffle of Clover's off-white blouse. "I think your parents can wait a few moments more – I have to talk to you."_

_Clover checked to see if her arm was still bleeding and, when she saw the bleeding had ceased, she rolled her sleeve down to hide it. Her mother would tan her hide if she saw the mark. "You can talk to me after supper. Just tell Ash to keep an eye out for Mama and Papa and you can come see me in my room."_

_"I really think I should say it now, Clover."_

_"Mickey, think about it. If we show up late for dinner, Mama and Papa will ask what we have been up to. And you know that they don't approve of us gallivanting throughout the Five Points together without supervision. It may have been different when we were children after we arrived here, but now we are grown. It's not right. And what will happen if they see what I have done to my arm? They see you as the little boy they took in when we left Ireland. What would they say if we told them we have grown up and grown together? They won't like it, Mickey. They think of you as a son, not a potential husband for me." Clover's normally pale, yet freckled, face turned red as she vented out loud at Mickey. _

_As much as the two of them hated to admit it, everything she was saying was true. Ever since the O'Connell's took Mickey in after his parents confessed they wanted him to have a better life in America, a life they could never afford to give him, Margaret and Colin O'Connell viewed Mickey as the son they adopted when he was ten. Though they knew that their daughter was fond of both her twin brother and Mickey, they tried to ignore the differences in the signs of affections that she showed towards both. But they weren't blind; tempers were rising around the O'Connell apartment and Clover was waiting for something to set her parents off. Something like what Mickey was preparing to say to her._

_"That's what I wanted to talk to you about, Clover," Mickey announced, resting his hand on the same sleeve, the one not covering her new tattoo. His voice lost its earlier playfulness; he was serious._

_Clover took a deep breath and willed her face to return to its normal color before sighing. "What is it, Mickey? What is it that can't wait?"_

_Mickey began to fidget, pacing back and forth, while wringing his hands at the same time. When he saw that Clover had began to tap her foot while watching him pace, Mickey stopped mid-step and blurted out what was on his mind. "Clover – Moira. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"_

_Clover's jaw dropped as she stared at Mickey's hopeful expression. "Are you kidding me, Mickey? Us, married?"_

_Mickey simply nodded._

_"But, Mickey, I'm so young. You're so young. I mean, we're only fifteen and sixteen." Clover began to shake her head in disbelief. She knew she would eventually be married to Mickey, no matter what her parents said, but now?_

_"So, Clover?_ _My ma and pa were fourteen when they got hitched. Why can't we?"_

_Clover, not really thinking about what she was saying, answered, "Yeah, and your parents had you so young that they couldn't afford to keep you when you got older." But, once the words were out of her mouth, the harsh reality of their meaning coupled with the sharp intake of breath that Mickey drew in let Clover know she went too far. Mickey hated to be reminded that he was being raised in a family that really wasn't his own while his real parents remained in Ireland. "I'm sorry, Mickey, I didn't mean it. You just caught me off guard, is all."_

_Mickey nodded and turned his back on her. "I know, Clover. I just thought you loved me enough to want to be with me forever."_

_"I do..." she answered hesitantly. She didn't like where he was going with this._

_"Then I don't see any reason why we can't get married." _Ah, Mickey logic.

_Clover sighed. When Mickey had his mind set on something, there was no way he was going to change it. The trick was to get Mickey to think about something else until he forgot the first thing. "Mickey, look. It's getting late. How about we talk about this later, okay?"_

_Mickey just shook his head. "That ain't gonna work with me, Clover. I've been thinking about this for awhile now and I ain't gonna forget it right quick. . I'm really serious about this. I've already decided to head on down to the Church and ask Father MacDougal about the cost of the ceremony. Just tell your parents that I won't be home in time for supper. If you want to tell them where I am and why, go ahead. But please think about my proposal, Clover. I've already saved up a few dollars working for Old Man Smith's fruit cart down the block so I'm sure I can afford it. What do you say?"_

_Clover looked around wildly and then pulled her bonnet down to cover her eyes while she contemplated Mickey's idea. Then, with a smile, she stood on her tiptoes and looked straight into Mickey's waiting eyes. "I say yes, Mickey. I say yes."_

_Mickey whooped loudly and lifted Clover up in the air, spinning her around, her skirt fanning around her ankles as she spun. "I'm so happy, Clo. You won't regret it."_

_Clover laughed when Mickey placed her on the ground. "I know I won't."_

--

Clover stared down at the faded green ink on her arm and frowned. _Forever and always, eh?_ With a small sigh the girl rolled down her sleeve and called out into the streets, "Ash?"

As if out of nowhere, a short boy, wearing a white button-down shirt – missing the top two buttons – grey knickers and a faded blue newsboy cap, appeared at her side. Seventeen year old Aidan O'Connell, nicknamed Ash for the light color of his hair, smiled at his twin sister. "Yeah, Clo? Did I hear you call?" His face was heart-shaped, just like hers, but his own hazel eyes were filled with a spark that even the recent hardships the siblings encountered couldn't extinguish; Clover's eyes were as dull as the water-starved grass that made up the Park where she was standing.

Momentarily forgetting her memories of the last time she saw Mickey Duggan, Clover playfully hit her brother upside his head. _At least I'll have Ash forever and always._ "What did I tell you about disappearing like that?"

Ash removed his faded hat and rubbed the back of his head. "Hey, Maddie, just because Ma gave birth to you a couple of minutes before me, that don't make you the boss of me."

Clover, being the older and taller of the two, looked down at Ash as she reminded him for the countless time: "I distinctly remember that right before Ma died last year she said I was to look after you." She paused for a second before adding: "And my name is Clover, not Maddie." She still preferred to be called by her nickname. Her Christian name reminded her too much of her parents. But, despite the fact that she purposely called her brother by his nickname, he only ever called her Maddie.

Her brother playfully hit her across her right arm. "Yeah, yeah, yeah, if you say so, _Madeleine_, though I still say that was the fever talking and not Ma." He grinned goofily as he replaced the hat back on top of his head. "You know, I still can't believe that after everything we been through together as a family here in the City, it was a fever that did her in. I thought for sure that she was going to die of a heart attack when you came back from Chatham Square with that thing on your arm announcing that you were going to get married."

Ignoring the latter half of his comment, Clover stared at the spot here she knew the choppy design on her arm lay before whispering to the air, "Or a broken heart when Papa got killed."

Her whispered words were enough to wipe the smart aleck grin right off of Ash's face. "Mickey didn't do it, Maddie. You know he couldn't."

There was a brief pause that, if Ash wasn't as simple as he was, he might have realized that it wasn't the smartest thing to say to his sister. "The only thing I know, Ash, is that right after I talked to Ma and Papa about Mickey, Papa took off to have a word with Mickey and ended up getting killed. And, right after that copper told us about finding Papa a block from the Church, we found out that Mickey had take off, leaving Five Points forever. If he didn't do it, why would he leave home?" Clover countered, her voice almost hissing as she crossed her arms over her chest, creasing her blouse.

Ash shrugged, trying to resume his earlier grin. "I don't know, Maddie. But I do know that Mickey would never do anything to hurt Papa. I mean, look at all Papa did for him. Taking him in, making sure his belly was full, keeping a roof over his head..."

Clover turned her face away from her brother and held up her hand. "Ash, stop. I don't want to talk about it no more."

And, for once, Ash heeded her words and fell silent.


	2. quare mihi?

Author's Note: _And, finally, chapter number two. I decided to take this on a little bit more humorous note for the first few chapters until the real conflict occurs. I hope I succeeded, somewhat._

_As stated in the summary, I am looking for characters. The boys in this story are newsies, the girls are factory workers – there will be a turf war, so if you want to be on the bad side (Harlem, in this case), you can. If you are interested please include, with your review, your name, NN, age, looks, personality, guy, allegiances, etc. You guys know the drill :)_

Disclaimer: _This story is from the property of my mind. The twins, Clover & Ash O'Connell, as well as most minor characters are mine, except for a few friends who were generous enough to let me use their characters. Any character that you recognize from the 1992 musical, Newsies, obviously is the creative property of Disney._

---

_ad_ _infinitum  
_- To Infinity -

07.28.06

_When Clover lost her parents and her love all within one short year, she and her brother remained in Manhattan.  
What happens, though, when her newfound life as a newsie isn't as carefree as she thinks?  
Or her position in the group leads her straight into the arms of her old enemy?_

---

QUARE MIHI?  
_WHY ME?_

The awkward moment between the siblings lasted for a few seconds before Ash's face split into a wide grin. He whipped the blue felt hat from his head and, before she could react, he used it to hit Clover in the face.

Clover's mouth dropped open at once and, though she saw the mischievous expression that was written on Ash's face, she glared furiously at him. "Aidan Colin O'Connell," she began, raising her left hand to caress her cheek, "you are going to—"

She never got to finish her threat, however. As soon as she had recovered from the surprise of being slapped by his hat, Ash winked at her and took off like a shot, his hat hanging limply from his right hand.

Clover watched as Ash ran, paralyzed for those first few seconds, before common sense kicked in and she followed after him. Ash loved to joke around, sometimes too much; she had to knock him down a few pegs before they could find lodging for the night. They finally, after a fortnight of sleeping huddled together on the streets, had scraped together enough money to spend the night indoors but Clover knew they would have to split up for those nighttime hours. And she wouldn't feel comfortable leaving her brother alone if he was in one of his silly moods – he could get himself into trouble that she wouldn't be there to get him out of.

Though he was an inch shorter than she was, his legs were actually longer than hers and, coupled with the head start he had, Ash was almost out of her sight as she ran after him. Her brother had inherent grace and was having no problem ducking and dodging the people crowding the street. Clover, on the other hand, was trying to keep up with him while also trying to prevent her long brown skirt from tearing – there was already one hole at the hem of this skirt and it was the better of the two she owned – and trying to avoid anyone that was walking in her direction.

She thought she overheard more than one person comment on the impropriety of a young lady running around the streets like a boy. She ignored them; if they would have gotten a better look at her matted hair or her dirt-stained face, they would have never referred to her as a lady; she was nothing more than a street rat, and had been that way since her mother died and they were turned out of their small apartment.

She stumbled as one of her heeled shoes snagged against a rock but recovered quickly and kept running. Ash, who had slowed his pace in order to let his sister catch up with him, had turned around and was jogging backwards. "Come on, Maddie," he laughed, "can't you run any faster?"

Clover always hated that look on his face when he wore it. When he laughed at her, she always felt inferior to her brother and that made her annoyed and all the more eager to catch up to him and smack him for starting this little race – and, not to mention, the unwarranted slap in the face with his smelly hat. She opened her mouth to tell her brother to hush up as she put on a little extra speed, but found herself pausing as she saw someone running in the opposite direction – running directly into Ash. "Ash, look out!" she hollered but she was too late.

Ash, who had still been running backwards, did not see the shorter boy running his way. That boy had been looking over his shoulder at that moment and had not seen Ash's back approaching him. The smack that the impact made almost caused Clover to wince and she was still a block away. Both of them ended up on the ground, in a heap of tangled limbs.

Clover took that moment to stop and, with a glance upwards, ask God – for the countless time – _Why me?_

--

Shaking her head slowly, Clover began to walk over to her brother. By the time she made it by his side, Ash had finally gotten back to his feet, his hat jammed back on his head, before extending his hand to help up the other boy. The shorter boy, with his dark hair, dark eyes, and cigar butt clamped between his teeth, looked like a miniature adult. The scowl that was on his face did nothing to help the image for Clover and she had to fight a condescending laugh. When he had fallen, he had dropped an armful of newspapers and they now lay scattered in the street.

The boy, reluctantly it seemed, accepted Ash's offer of help. Once he, too, was on his feet – and Clover could see that was almost a head shorter than her brother, though they seemed to be of a similar age – he gestured to the fallen papers. "My papes," he said, in an accent much thicker than her own. "Damn it!"

He bent down to begin gathering the papers and only lost his scowl when he saw that Ash, smiling, had bent down to help.

Clover took that opportunity to approach her brother and, her hands on her hips, stare down at him. "Ash! Haven't I told you to always watch where you are going?" she scolded, sounding just like her mother.

Ash's head drooped and his pleasant grin seemed to waver. He didn't say anything in response, however, as he finished straightening up a stack of the strewn papers. "Here you go," he said, handing them out to the boy. "Sorry about that. My fault."

The boy, already holding a smaller stack of papers, took Ash's half from him and added it to the first pile before sticking it under his arm. He wiped the dirt of his right hand on his black pants before spitting into it once and extending it to Ash. "No worries, pal."

Ash, familiar with the newsboy – or newsie – custom of spit-shaking, spit into his own hand before taking the boy's and shaking it. "Ash," he said by way of introduction.

"Racetrack," said the other boy. When he had his own hand back he looked over his shoulder once before turning to face Ash again. "Thanks for the help but I—"

"Race, you mook! Get back here."

Racetrack grinned wickedly and Clover, who had been wondering why that boy had been running, saw why: he was being chased by two other boys, a tall brown-haired boy wearing a red bandana knotted around his neck, and a blonde-hair boy with a brown eye patch covering his left eye. Though she could see that the two boys were grinning, likewise, Clover just shook her head. _Boys_.

"Gotta go!" Racetrack said before beginning to run. He had taken only two steps when Ash, who was trying to get out of the way, ended up crossing paths with Racetrack a second time. Luckily, this time they only knocked into each other without falling over.

Clover could not believe the slapstick routine she was watching. _No, seriously. Why me?_

This latest act was enough to stall Racetrack so that, before he could run again, his chasers were right behind him. The boy with the bandana, grabbed onto the back of Racetrack's plaid vest before he could go anywhere. "What's the hurry, Race?"

His friend, slightly out of breath from the run, paused on the other side of Racetrack and playfully smacked him on the face. "Did you think you could get away from Cowboy and me?"

To Clover's – who was now watching this whole thing with an interested eye; they were, she recognized, the newsies who must sell around these parts and, as newsies, could get Ash in on selling in Manhattan – surprise, the boy, Racetrack, seemed almost pleased to see the other two. "Blink," he said, addressing the boy with the patch, "Jack," he continued, turning to grin cheekily at the boy with the bandana, "you made it."

Jack just rolled his eye before smacking Race upside the head. "That's for betting me that Oscar Delancey was a spy from the Harlem rats and almost starting that fight outside the Distribution Center."

Blink mimicked Jack's gesture, smacking Race on the other side of his side. "And that's for doing the same to me, but with Morris. Honestly, Race, I don't know why we believe you sometimes."

All Race did was remove his black cap and rub the back of his head. "I thought it was funny. Oh," he added, "that reminds me. You both owe me two-bits."

--

Before the boys called Jack and Blink could retaliate to Racetrack's last comment, Clover took a step forward. It seems that none of the three boys had noticed their audience – or that one of the two was a girl. "Hey," she said, and three sets of eyes – or, two sets and an extra eye from the patch-wearing boy – turned her way. "You guys newsies from around here?"

Jack, with all the air of authority about him, took a step toward her. "Who wants to know?"

She pointed to herself and then her brother. "My name is Clover, that's my brother Ash. He needs some work and we need a place to stay. I thought that maybe you guys could set him up as a newsboy here. We used to sell together back in the Bronx," she offered as explanation; this Jack boy looked like he didn't want to be bothered by a newcomer.

Clover knew that this boy had to be the leader of this group of boys; both Racetrack and Blink took a break from their antics to see what Jack's answer would be. The boy, who wore a Cowboy hat hanging down his back, and appeared to be about seventeen years old – a year older than the twins – looked over at Ash. Ash just smiled his goofy smile and Clover felt a sense of love for him. He really was a good brother.

Jack nodded. "The Distribution Center is just a few blocks back way," he said, jerking his thumb over his shoulder in the direction from which the three boys had come. Each of them, she noticed, had a stack of papers under their arms. They were obviously preparing to sell the afternoon edition of the paper. "The Newsboys' Lodging House is down on Duane Street. It's six cents a night to stay but it's a nice place, I say."

Ash stepped forward, now that he felt that he was judged worthy, walking until he was right next to Blink. Racetrack, from his spot next to Blink, looked over at Clover briefly before turning his gaze on Ash. Then, following Jack's offer of his Lodging House, he took the opportunity to make an observation. "You two look an awful lot alike. Except, you're a girl," he added, pointing at Clover. There was a hint of a smirk on his face.

It took all she had not to roll her eyes and walk away with Ash. "He's my brother – my twin brother."  
She wasn't sure if they understood the concept of twins all that well. "You know, Mama had two babies at one time? Those kind of twins? And, yeah, we look alike."

Racetrack, the smart ass that he is, understood sarcasm when he heard it. "Yeah, well, Kloppman don't let girlies stay in the Lodging House so, if your brother wants to be a newsie, you're gonna have to leave him with us," he said, gesturing to himself, Jack and Blink.

Blink smiled and punched Ash playfully in the shoulder. He didn't seem to mind but Clover couldn't help but let out a slight exasperated sound. She didn't like anyone to touch her brother. _Maybe it's not the smartest idea, letting Ash stay with these boys. _

Something about her expression, the hardened hazel eyes narrowing at Blink threateningly before flashing in Racetrack's direction, caught Jack's attention. He seemed to know exactly what was on her mind. "Don't you worry, Clover. The Lodging House is the best place around for a kid to stay. We'll take good care of Ash." _So that's why Jack's the leader of these boys. He's a goddamn peacemaker_, Clover noticed and sighed. She just hoped she could trust him – her gut told her to be a bit wary. "There's even a good old water pump inside," he added, trying not to smirk and Clover knew that her gut instinct was to be trusted.

She was aware that both she and Ash looked a little bit worse for the wear but they had only been on the East Side of the City for a few weeks, scrounging pennies and nicking food when they could. They could only now afford to get a proper bed and wash – it wasn't their fault if they didn't smell as fresh as these boys. They had jobs. _At least they can get Ash a job, too, _she thought and resigned herself to try her best to trust these boys. _Maybe they could do something for me._

There was a slight pause that followed and, for the first time since the conversation began, Clover remembered that she was the only girl present. None of the boys had said anything about that – about the fact that she was making the decisions for her brother and not vice versa – though she thought she had seen a smirk come from the shortest of the three, the boy with the smelly cigar, the one Ash had knocked over: Racetrack. _And they're making remarks about me and Ash? _Nonchalantly, Clover crossed her arms over her chest. The action did not go unnoticed by the boys; that same short kid elbowed the boy with the eye patch and mumbled something about 'blocking his view' with a lecherous grin on his face.

Clover was not too sure that she liked this Racetrack fellow.

She tried not to let color stain her cheeks. Instead, she held her head up high and kept her eyes on the one leading these boys, this Cowboy. "So you got something for Ash, that's great. But what about me?"

Ash finally chose to speak, for the first time since apologizing for bumping into Racetrack. "Yeah, what about Maddie? If she's gonna have to sleep outside again, I'm staying with her." To prove his point, he protectively placed his arm on her shoulder. The gesture was meant to be supportive but, with Ash grinning like a fool, it looked ridiculous.

One of Jack's eyebrows quirked upwards and, though she refused to turn towards the other boys, Clover could have sworn she heard Blink snigger. "Who the hell is Maddie?" Jack asked.

Clover smacked her brother on his arm so that he would leave her be. How many times had she told him not to call her Maddie? Especially in front of other people? _Why me?_

Jack nodded his understanding but, smartly, did not say anything about her name. "Oh," he said. Then he shrugged. "There's a girls' home that I know of. It's pretty good, I hear, and not too much money. Why don't you go there?"

Racetrack laughed out loud this time; at least, Clover realized, it was directed towards Jack. "Oh, come on, Cowboy. You make it sound like you don't spend half your free time visiting your girl down at the Bottle Alley Home," he cracked, a bit of a twinkle in his dark eyes.

Clover had to give Jack a bit of credit. Rather than look abashed at Racetrack's comment, he just shrugged again and smirked. "Yeah, well, I ain't the only one is all I'll say."

Racetrack, she noted, shut his mouth almost right away.

Jack shook his head. "Like I was saying, before I was interrupted," he quipped, daring a cheap look in Racetrack's direction, "the girls' home is over by Bottle Alley. Most of those girls have a day job working in Old Man William's textile factory. The hours are long, but the wage is fair. I'm sure you can get a job if you need one, too."

Clover nodded. This was exactly what she was looking for; if she had full-time work, she could earn much more than selling newspapers on a street corner and be so busy that her thoughts would never have time to stray to more undesirable memories. Maybe then, before too long, she would be able to afford a room for her and her brother. And if Ash could have a job – a job that earned him money but wasn't too difficult for him to do – that would keep him occupied while she labored, that was all the better.

Now if she wasn't just so uncomfortable with leaving her brother alone with these newsboys.


	3. primoris placitum

Author's Note: _Here's chapter number three. I will be using every character that was so generously offered. The first of these characters, Hair, is mentioned in this chapter. The rest will enter in the next chapter. Woot._

Disclaimer: _This story is from the property of my mind. The twins, Clover & Ash O'Connell, as well as most minor characters are mine, except for a few friends who were generous enough to let me use their characters. Any character that you recognize from the 1992 musical, Newsies, obviously is the creative property of Disney._

---

_ad_ _infinitum  
_- To Infinity -

08.10.06

_When Clover lost her parents and her love all within one short year, she and her brother remained in Manhattan.  
What happens, though, when her newfound life as a newsie isn't as carefree as she thinks?  
Or her position in the group leads her straight into the arms of her old enemy?_

---

PRIMORIS PLACITUM  
_FIRST MEETING_

Clover was not ready to leave Ash on his own just yet but when the boys said that he could accompany them on their selling, she did not want to look ungrateful. They were from this area – the Lower East Side – and obviously knew all the selling spots. Also, as she learned during their brief stay in the Bronx, it never hurt to stay on the good side of a crew of newsies.

She was a bit concerned, just then, as to what she was going to do. It was mid-afternoon and any of the girls that Jack had mentioned would surely be working at the factory. And, while Jack offered up the Girls' Home to her, he had not mentioned exactly where she could find it.

She did not have to really worry about that, though; as soon as Jack offered to take Ash on – with a generous 60/40 split since Ash had a, as he called it, 'face no lady could turn away'; she found out much later that he thought that Ash was too dumb to be perceived as a scammer – Blink tapped her on the shoulder. "I'm heading in the direction of Bottle Alley. You want I should show you the way?"

Clover turned to look at the blonde boy with the eye patch. He was grinning – he seemed to _always _be grinning – but he seemed sincere all the same. She shrugged. "That would be great."

Ash let out a great laugh. "You see, Maddie. I told you we'd make it in Manhattan," he said, swatting the side of her arm.

She just smiled at him; it was a motherly smile and it showed the discomfort she felt at leaving her brother alone. "I'm going to go get settled in at this Home, Ash. You do the same and tomorrow, I'll come back to see you, alright?" He nodded. "You'll behave?" He nodded again.

Racetrack looked from Clover to Ash and back again. "What are you, his mother?"

She did not know how to reply to his comment just then. She could not help it if this boy did not have anyone to care about him. Ash had her to watch out for him and she would do that until she died. She opened her mouth to tell the short boy such when Jack – _Goddamn peacemaker, I knew it _– interrupted her.

"Hey Race. Dave and Les came down with some sort of stomach bug last night. Seemed like something Sarah cooked didn't sit right with them. Do you want to come hit the boxing match with me and the new kid today? I think you might have missed your trolley to Sheepsheads what while you were running from me and Blink."

Race did not even look abashed at Jack's mild accusation. Instead, he smirked. "Sure thing, Cowboy. Someone's gotta teach him how to really sell."

Kid Blink took that opportunity to tap on Clover's shoulder again. "Are you ready, Miss?"

"Clover," she supplied. She did not like to be called anything but – including 'Miss'.

"Are you ready, _Clover_," he amended.

She nodded. It was better not to look a gift horse in the mouth. If one of these boys – and not that short, obnoxious one – was offering to show her to a respectable girls' home, she would follow him. But, before she set off after Blink, she turned around and gave her brother a quick hug. "Be good, Aidan," she whispered to him.

"I will, Maddie."

--

Clover was quiet as Blink led the way. He was hawking the headlines, trying to sell his wares as he went; it was somewhat difficult, considering it was the afternoon edition of the _New York World _that he was trying to sell. Most of the people, hurrying home or hurrying to work, had already read the morning edition.

The only luck he was having at all, she noticed, came down to the eye patch the boy was wearing. It reminded her of a kid she knew during the few months she was a newsie in the Bronx. He was a cripple, with only one full arm; the other was nothing more than a stump that extended down to his elbow and that was it. He said he got his hand and wrist cut off in a factory accident when he was twelve. Clover doubted the truth behind his story – it looked like he might have been born that way to her – but, either way, he got more than a penny for a paper almost every time he told his story to a prospective customer.

Part of her wanted to ask him about his eye patch. Did he have an eye under there? Or was he just faking? But she knew she could not. She had, after all, only known the boy for about an hour or so.

She would wait until later to ask him. Like, after he took her to Bottle Alley.

But, just because she was keeping quiet about his eye, it did not mean she was not going to keep quiet about anything else; the silence was almost stifling her.

So, after he sold a newspaper to a young man – who, to Clover's chagrin, had been looking her over during the transaction – she decided to strike up a conversation.

"Hey Blink?"

He seemed a bit surprised that she was talking to him. Up until then, she had stayed about a foot behind him, following like a little lost puppy, but now she had caught up to him and was talking. "Yeah?"

She was a few inches shorter than him so, now that she was walking at his side, she tilted her head upwards slightly to speak with him. He noticed that her lips were formed into what could only be read as a mischievous grin. "So, why are you heading in the direction of Bottle Alley?" If that Jack Kelly was said to have spent his time over at the Bottle Alley Home in order to be with a girl, did that mean that Blink was doing the same? She did not know but her curiosity was causing her to find out.

"Because."

'_Because'._ _Oh, what a mature answer. _"Because… of a girl?" It had been so long that she talked to anyone besides her brother. She had forgotten how much fun it could be; she could not tease Ash at all. He never knew when to be offended or laugh – mainly, he just laughed.

This boy, however, had a faint pink twinge appear on his cheeks. _Bingo_. "Maybe," was his answer.

"Who is she?" Clover asked, assuming that 'maybe' meant yes. It would probably be a good idea to get a bit of information about these girls she would have to live with.

He hesitated for a moment but then he sighed and lowered the arm that held his papers. He had given in. "Well, her name is Greenberry bu—"

"Greenberry?" Clover interrupted. Her nose went slightly wrinkled at the name; she had never heard of a girl called 'Greenberry' before.

Blink grinned. "Like I was saying, her name is Greenberry but we all just call her Hair." He paused then. He had a feeling that Clover would want to say something.

She did. "Oh." Not much, but it got her feelings across. She thought Hair was a better name than Greenberry.

He continued; Clover learned, from then on, that the quickest way to get one of these newsies to start talking – and never stop – was to ask them about two things: the quality of the day's headline and their girl. "Hair is just great. She's real pretty with these beautiful blue-grey eyes. She's got nice long hair, a nice brown color, that suits her nice."

Clover was prepared to interrupt with a comment on how 'looks aren't everything' but Blink surprised her. Before she got the chance, he began to talk about her personality.

"And, besides being real pretty, she's a great gal. She's sweet, she's funny and, though she's kind of shy around people she don't know to well, she's a real good friend."

"She sounds like a nice person," Clover said. She was kind of regretting asking Blink now; she had not had someone to gush about her since Mickey up and left. And she did not like to remember Mickey.

Blink just nodded his agreement. "Yeah…"

--

After asking about Blink's girl, a silence fell over the duo. Despite her better attempts, Clover's thoughts kept returning to Mickey Duggan. Blink's thoughts, obviously, were on this Greenberry – _Hair _– person.

She took a few steps back and they fell into the rhythm of earlier. He led the way, selling papers to anyone who listened to his yells of the _improved _headline; she followed, as quiet as before.

That's when another person seemed to join their ranks; he had been standing on the corner at the end of the street that Clover and Blink were walking. Once he saw them, he lowered the newspapers he had held high – _another newsboy_ – and turned to greet the pair. Or, better yet, Blink.

As he spit into his right hand and extended it to Blink, Clover got a good look at him. He was a thin boy, roughly her age, if not a year younger. His skin was slightly darker than her own and he had a head of tight, dark curls. He was smiling, however, and that expression seemed to brighten up his entire face. In that aspect, he reminded her of her brother.

After the two boys spit-shook – a habit she found to be entirely disgusting; Ash brought home more than one illness from the filthy newsies custom – the new boy looked past Blink and greeted Clover. "Hello there, Miss," he said. Then he put his hat, a dark newsboy cap, back on his head. She only then realized that she was able to see his hair because, as soon as he had approached them, he had taken off his hat in a sign of respect for her.

She was not sure if she was flattered or annoyed at the gesture.

Blink, on the other hand, knew from before that she did not like to be called 'Miss'. Before she had the chance to correct his pal, he did. "Hey, Mush. This ain't no 'Miss'. This is Clover."

The boy, Mush, looked a bit confused. He was sure that she was a girl; and a girl, unless married, was a 'Miss'. He shook his head. It was much easier to understand that her name was Clover. "Hello, Clover."

She shrugged. "Hey."

Blink, obviously, seemed to think it was up to him to introduce the two of them. He had already given Mush her name; he did the same for her. "Clover, this is my pal, Mush. He stays over at the Lodging House with us."

"I kind of figured that," she said but smiled. She did not want to look ungrateful. She nodded at Mush. "Nice to meet you."

"Same, here," he replied. He did not seem to move, though, after introductions. Blink, on the other hand, was eager to sell the rest of his papers and meet up with Hair as she finished her shift at the Williams' factory.

"Well, Mush, we're on our way to the Bottle Alley Home. I'm showing Clover how to get there," he explained.

Mush was not as slow as he normally let on. He elbowed Blink in the side. "Are you sure you're not just going to see Hair?"

Blink blushed slightly again but retaliated for his words by playfully slapping Mush's cheek. "You just wish you had a girl to visit."

Mush just laughed. However, Clover could not help but notice that his dark eyes slid in her direction as he did so.

Clover rolled her eyes. Not for the first time, she wondered: _Why me?_


End file.
